


Swaying Hips and Pretty Lips [1920's Coldflash Collection]

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Coldflash tumblr prompts [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Actual Garbage, Alternate Universe - 1920's New York, Alternate Universe - Mob, Cheesy Title Because WHY TF NOT, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a saying among the Rogues’ Gallery. “Three things’ll get Lenny Snart out on the town:  business, pretty things, and his baby sister.”</p><p>Right now, it’s all three.</p><p> </p><p>[Anonymous asked: How about 1920's New York. Barry is a singer in Len's favorite Jazz club.]<br/>[all chapters are connected within the same 'verse]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is actual garbage but I posted it on Tumblr already so why not.
> 
> It'll have two chapters because I kind of went overboard with the trash and wrote two answers in one, and the second can be seen as a sort of continuation.
> 
> This feels strangely like a harlequin novel. Is that just me?

There’s a saying among the Rogues’ Gallery. “Three things’ll get Lenny Snart out on the town:  business, pretty things, and his baby sister.”

Right now, it’s all three.

Business: a new club just opened up in Len’s territory. He wants to check the place out, see how it’s running. Meet with the owner, have a nice civil talk.

Baby sister: Lisa’s just come back from meeting up with Queen’s family in Star City. She wants to see this club with her brother.

Pretty things: that lovely young thing on the stage crooning a song and swaying his hips.

Len leans back in the booth, clean-cut blue suit appearing darker under the dim lights of the club. Lisa’s chatting away with Shawna over drinks while he watches, transfixed, at the singer.

“Who is that?” he asks the owner without looking away.

“That is my son, Mr. Snart,” says Joe West. Adopted then.

“I’d like to talk to him.”

He can feel West’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me—”

Len turns to him at last. “Yes, you are excused. I look forward to my talk with your son after his performance.”

West leaves, but not without a final glare over his shoulder.

“He’s not happy,” Lisa says in his ear.

“If that’s all he is, order another drink,” Len replies. “Oh, and I need that singer’s name.”

Lisa winks, “On it, brother mine.”

* * *

It’s Barry Allen, and yes, he would be delighted to talk to Mr. Snart after his set.

* * *

Barry slides into the booth, sweaty and scarlet red from singing so long under the lights. His lips were lovely, but up close they’re just to die for.

“Barry Allen,” Len says, “what a pleasure.”

Barry smiles. He’s tense, but his eyes are kind. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Snart. I wanted to thank you for letting Joe open the club.”

“Yes,  _The Flash_ ,” Len smirks, “was there any inspiration behind the name?”

“Oh, well…actually, it’s because Joe says I’m a really fast runner. I don’t believe him, but it’s all he told me.”

“A fast runner, hm? Tell me Barry, are you planning on running now?”

The blush deepens. “No, Mr. Snart.” Barry says this so quietly, Len has to rely on reading his lips. He doesn’t mind. Could stare at ‘em all day.

“That was quite a performance. You’re a wonderful singer.”

“Oh, um,” Barry rubs the back of his neck, “I—thank you, Mr. Snart—”

“Len.”

“Uh…Len. Um. I-I was just filling in until we could find someone.”

Len sips his drink. “No,” he says, “I like you on that stage. Might become a regular when you stay.”

Barry looks taken aback. Flustered. “W-well, I—I’ll have to talk to Joe about that.”

“Not necessary, although you should tell him about your promotion.”

Barry tilts his head. “Uh…are you always like this?”

…interesting. “Like what?”

So…” Barry shrugs, “I dunno… _cold_.” Len raises an eyebrow. “Not that that’s a bad thing, Mr. Snar—uh, Len. I bet it’s, uh, useful for. Y’know, what you do. Um.”

Len’s smirk grows. He slides over until he’s right next to Barry. Barry, who’s breath shudders out of his mouth at their sudden proximity. Len takes his hand, presses it to his chest.

“Do I feel cold to you, Barry?”

Barry glances from his eyes, to his hand—to his lips.

“No," he whispers.

And that's how they begin.


	2. Private Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santini's got a meeting with Snart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching a movie in Spanish and also really tired while I wrote this and I still haven't edited it, so if it's somehow even worse than the first chapter, that's probably why.

The Flash’s been open for a while now, and it’s been getting a good reputation. Still, it’s not half as good as most of the places in the Snarts’ territory. Santini doesn’t understand why they don’t visit a place like Nimbus.

Mick Rory snorts when he hears the comment. “Don’t let ‘im hear you say that.”

“Why not?” asks Santini.

Rory answers by saying, “It’s Tuesday. You guys got lucky.”

Maria, Santini’s wife, raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Did we now?”

Rory opens the door for them. Smoke and heat rush to meet them—along with a smooth, lilting voice.

“Barry Allen’s performing.”

* * *

Snart and his sister await them in a booth near the stage. Lisa greets them; Snart seems fixed on the stage, more relaxed than anyone’s ever seen him.

Santini can see why. Barry Allen’s a skinny slip of a boy, but he’s got succulent lips and hips that were made to be pinned to a mattress. He’s got both hands on the mic stand, swaying to the sax as he sings.

“You’re here to discuss what you get from allying yourself with me,” Snart interrupts. Santini turns to find his piercing stare boring into his own. “Let’s start with him. He belongs to me. No exceptions.”

Just as he says this, Barry Allen croons the last note of the song. Then he announces a new singer, his friend Iris West. After that, he bounds from the stage, wipes his face with a towel, and—comes right over to Snart with a beatific grin.

“Iris is gonna take a few songs,” he says, sliding under Snart’s lifted arm.

“Gentlemen, lady,” Snart says, “Barry Allen. Barry, Mr and Mrs. Santini and their associates.”

Barry continues to smile, but doesn’t offer his hand. Instead, he puts his head on Snart’s shoulder and asks, “Did you like the song? Special request.”

Santini raises an eyebrow. Damn, Snart’s a lucky man. “Got the end of it. You’re quite talented,” Snart’s eyes narrow, “Mr. Allen.”

Barry blushes an attractive scarlet. “Thank you.”

“Tell me, do you give private performances? We could use some entertainment for this meeting.”

Snart’s knuckles turn white on his glass. Lisa looks at Santini as an impatient teacher would at a student who failed yet another test. Rory crosses his arms, looking between the two heads like an interested spectator watching a fight.

Yet it’s Barry who speaks, curling further against Snart. “Sorry. Those are reserved for Len.”

Just like that, Snart’s grip on his glass loosens. His glare, however, is cold as ever. Fortunately, the meeting officially begins without further incident.

If Snart’s feeling a little generous, well. It’s a Tuesday.

Lisa catches Barry’s eye. She winks; he smiles.


	3. Pleasure's All Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: mob AU! Can we do one more in that verse with the phrase. "Lenny or Barry (you pick); "Please, he was just shaking my hand."
> 
> [Chose Barry]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So an anon came to me and asked me to group my coldflash prompt fills into one story so I don't clog up the tag. I just wanted to apologize for any inconvenience!!! I swear I didn't mean to clog up anything!!

It’s a regular Tuesday night at The Flash: Barry Allen’s up on stage, swaying and singing to the sax; drinks are flowing freely despite the work week; Lenny Snart’s in his usual booth. A business meeting’s happening tonight, so Barry’s gonna be cutting out early to sit with him. Lisa rightfully insists everything goes smoother when Barry’s there.

But it turns out Rathaway’s got a thing about punctuality. Before Barry can finish the last song, Hartley arrives. He doesn’t look threatening though. Apparently he’s a genius though, and is gonna make a fine addition to the Rogues if Len’s to be believed.

At the same time though, Barry doesn’t like the look in Hartley’s eye. It’s calculating like Len’s, but appraising—flirtatious. Interested.

Len stands to shake his hand. Hartley smirks at him. Lingers too long.

Barry improvises a short ending to the song.

* * *

If there’s anything that can make Lenny believe in God, it’s the sight of Barry Allen sauntering over to him after a set. His entire body moves in fluid strokes, eyes bright, smile full. Tonight, he looks even better: still sweating, still wearing clothes two sizes too tight, but there’s a purpose in his steps, a gleam about him that arrests Len’s attention and keeps him captive.

Rathaway’s saying something. He should pay attention.

“Hey, Len,” Barry grins, bending by the waist. Len can’t even get a word out before his boy’s tongue’s clean down his throat.

Hartley leans back with a smirk. “Well this is turning out to be the best Tuesday of my life.”

Barry pulls away, leaving Len blinking in his wake. “Barry Allen,” he says, holding out his hand, “Hartley Rathaway, right?”

Hartley shakes his hand. “I am indeed. A  _pleasure_ to meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for actually bothering with this one.


End file.
